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The Super Mum
Karen Rose Smith
THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEARWith three kids to care for and two jobs to make ends meet, the last thing on Angela Schumacher' s mind was a relationship. And then Santa delivered the perfect man to her door….Football coach David Moore agreed to be a " big brother" to Angela' s troubled older son, but he didn' t anticipate falling hard for the boy' s beautiful mom. As the holidays approached and their romance heated up, David knew Angela was torn between family duty and heart' s desire–but was he willing to wait for her to make up her mind? After all, love was waiting under the tree, if only Angela could reach out and grab it!Talk of the NeighborhoodWelcome to Danbury Way, where nothing is as it seems…
Angela was alone with David, nervous and excited as a kid on Christmas morning.
She had no regrets. They’d driven out to the community pond and had a blast skating. They’d moved as one. She’d been amazed how right it had felt to be with David. He’d kissed her in the gazebo, and then again in the car before the drive back to her house. They’d steamed up the windows until they couldn’t see out.
Not once had she asked herself what she was doing, because she knew. She was having fun. She was letting her attraction to David become more than a dream.
She was letting him in.
Dear Reader,
I’m a mom, so I understand my heroine’s need to be the Super Mom. As a woman, I think all women are blessed with the nurturing gene. But sometimes we want to take care of everyone else and we forget to take care of ourselves!
What I love about this series is that the women on Danbury Way take care of each other. As friends, they give each other reminders and advice on everything from their love lives to taking care of kids. My heroine, Angela, finds true love and answers to the problems with her son because she realizes she deserves to be happy, too—with a few gentle nudges from her sister and friends.
May we all be blessed with friends who encourage us to reach for our dreams.
All my best,
Karen Rose Smith
The Super Mum
Karen Rose Smith
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
KAREN ROSE SMITH
An award-winning author, Karen Rose Smith has had over fifty romance novels published. Each book broadens her world and challenges her in a unique way. While writing The Super Mom, she recalled the friendships she’s experienced that have touched her the most. Some are lifelong. Some are recent. All have enriched her life. Readers can e-mail Karen through her Web site at www.karenrosesmith.com or write to her at P.O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331.
To Lisa Smith—Thank you for your thoughtfulness
and support through a difficult time. May we always
find that ray of sunshine and feel its warmth.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
She was a fraud.
Everyone in the neighborhood thought Angela Schumacher was a Super mom, which might have been true a couple of years ago. But now, handling two jobs, caring for Olivia, Anthony and Michael more or less on her own, she was frazzled and on the edge.
She parked in her driveway and leaped out of her van, just staring at the scene in front of her. Evening light was fading fast. Her neighbor and babysitter, Zooey, stood just outside Angela’s front door carrying Jack Lever’s toddler. Zooey’s hand was in a “stay” position to Olivia, Michael, and Jack’s daughter, Emily, as she called to someone around the corner of the house.
Concerned that her normally unflappable, beautiful neighbor seemed hassled, Angela rushed forward. Although her blond hair was cut to a chic chin-length bob, and she usually felt good about herself when she looked in the mirror, next to Zooey she felt like a shrimp at five foot four. She’d never understood why it had taken Jack Lever so long to fall in love with his beautiful, willowy nanny. But he finally had, and everyone on Danbury Way had cheered. Now they were engaged to be married.
“Jack, be careful on that ladder,” Zooey called around the corner of the house, her breath puffing white in the early December cold.
“What ladder?” Angela asked, astonished. What in the heck was going on here? Maybe a cat had climbed up onto the roof… “Why is Jack climbing a ladder?”
Shifting two-year-old Jack Jr. from one arm to the other, Zooey replied calmly, “It’s Anthony.”
The fact suddenly registered with Angela that Anthony wasn’t standing in the doorway with the other kids. Her heart raced. Her mouth went dry. Panic clamped her chest. “What about Anthony? What’s wrong? Why do you need a ladder? Is there a fire?”
Zooey gave her friend a hint of a smile. “No, no fire. Calm down. He’s locked in his room. We can’t get him to open the door. He and Olivia got into an argument. He took her rock collection, went into his room and locked everyone out.”
Seven-year-old Olivia came rushing to Angela now, and so did Michael. “Mummy, I hate him,” she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. “He’s got my rocks.”
Olivia’s rock collection was her most precious possession. That’s obviously why Anthony had taken it. From the Super mom front, she was failing miserably with her oldest child. Anthony had been acting out in subtle ways for the past few months, ever since Jerome had missed his last two dates to see him.
Little Michael, whose fifth birthday seemed to give him permission to ask more questions than any other five-year-old in the world, gazed up at her with certainty. “You can make him open the door. That’s my room, too. He won’t let me in.”
“Jack just wanted to peek in the window to make sure he was okay,” Zooey assured her.
At that moment Jack rounded the house and smiled at Angela. “He’s as stubborn as any nine-year-old. He won’t look at me or talk to me. He totally ignored me when I rapped on the window. But he’s okay. He’s sitting on his bed with his earphones on, playing with his GameBoy.”
“I don’t know what to do with him,” Angela murmured. “I can’t make up for what Jerome won’t do.”
After she shooed the other kids into the house, Zooey bounced Jack Jr. a bit. “Maybe it’s time you look into the Big Brother program at the community center.” She glanced at Jack for support.
He shrugged. “You’d get a positive, male influence that way. On the other hand, you could get married again…” As usual Jack’s voice was full of mischief, and Angela knew he was just trying to make her smile. But right now, the idea of finding a husband ranked right up there with wanting to find a snake in her basement. She wasn’t looking for one, didn’t need one and would rather dismiss the whole scenario.
One thing she did know was that she had to take Anthony in hand. Up until now she’d been too lenient. She’d felt guilty because Jerome had left their Rosewood, New York, home without a backward glance. Disappointed he didn’t understand what gems he had in his kids, sorry that they didn’t feel his love, she’d overcompensated. That had to stop. Anthony had to understand reality, and she was going to explain it to him.
Turning to Zooey, she asked, “Can you stay for a few more minutes until I talk to Anthony?”
“No problem.”
As Jack took Jack Jr. from Zooey’s arms, he gave her a fast but resounding kiss. “Emily, are you coming with me?”
His daughter, the same age as Olivia, shook her head. “Olivia and I have stuff to talk about.”
Jack raised his brows at Angela to ask what she thought.
She could imagine what stuff the two girls had to chatter about. But they were great friends, and Angela didn’t mind Emily being around. “She can stay for supper if she’d like. I’m just going to make grilled cheese sandwiches and soup.”
Jack whispered to Zooey, “Maybe we can convince Jack Jr. to go to bed early.”
On a mission, Angela headed through the dining room to the kitchen, realizing how happy Zooey and Jack seemed. Planning their wedding for Valentine’s Day, they were the picture of what a couple was supposed to be. She didn’t believe she’d ever been that happy with Jerome.
They’d married because…
Because Angela had wanted a husband and a family. Her parents divorced when she was sixteen and her adopted sister, Megan, was fourteen. The break-up had hurt them both deeply. They’d turned to each other and were still best friends. Angela didn’t know what she was going to do when Megan got married and moved out of the garage apartment after New Year’s. Her sister had found love, too.
Maybe Angela had married Jerome because she’d wanted to believe in love…wanted to believe a man could stick better than her father had…wanted to believe in happy endings. But she’d learned the hard way that all men were alike. Well, maybe she was rethinking that a little because of the goings-on in the neighborhood. Megan and Greg seemed happy. Zooey and Jack couldn’t take their eyes off each other. Her neighbor Carly and her husband Bo were opposites but seemed to fit together like two puzzle pieces. Neighbors Rebecca and Joe seemed content, too, and the buzz said they were going to get engaged any day.
Sometimes Angela felt as if she were operating in an alternate universe.
In the kitchen, Angela searched in the silverware drawer for a shish kebob skewer. Then she hurried upstairs, trying to figure out what to say to her oldest child.
At his door, she put the tip of the skewer in the small hole in the knob and popped the lock.
Anthony’s room had been messier than ever the past two months—another aspect of his acting out. Although Michael was untidy in his little-boy-getting-older way—socks on the floor, toys not put back on the red-and-blue shelves—Anthony’s messiness was different. It was deliberate. Candy bar wrappers lay strewn about. Half a banana sat rotting on his nightstand. There were clothes on the floor—his jeans and a shirt. His bedspread, patterned with soccer balls, baseballs and footballs lay sprawled over the footboard. She had a rule that the kids make their beds every day, and he’d been breaking it.
She had to take back control. She had to teach him he couldn’t act however he wanted, that life wasn’t always fair, that there were rules and boundaries.
When she approached the bed, he didn’t even look up. He was sprawled there, one leg crossed over the other, headphones on, his fingers pressing buttons on his GameBoy. Determined to get his attention, she simply went to him and removed the earphones from his head.
“Hey!”
“I don’t answer to hey. It’s Mom. And when I come into the room, or when anybody comes into the room, you look at them.”
His eyes went wide at her firm tone. Then he looked wary. He had Jerome’s brown eyes. The same jaw, too. But he was as blond as she was. Even at nine he was already getting tall. He’d be six feet before long.
She motioned to the bed beside him. “Can I sit? We have to talk.”
Again, that wary look and a half shrug.
“Things have to change around here. Especially your behavior.”
A defensive frown shaped his mouth and, remaining silent, he folded his arms over his chest.
“I know you’re upset because your dad canceled your last two outings. But you can’t behave badly because of it. We can talk about it anytime you want.”
“You’re never here.”
True she was at home a lot less than she used to be, but that couldn’t be helped right now. “I’m here as much as I can be. I have to work to keep this house, to buy your clothes, to buy food. I’m working more now because with Aunt Megan leaving and getting married, we’ll have more expenses. I’m looking for someone else to move in above the garage, but until I find that person, money’s going to be tight.”
His brows arched as if he’d never thought about all that.
“I don’t want you to worry about it. We’ll be okay. But that’s why I took the part-time job at Felice’s Nieces. I guess I should have explained all this to you before I did it. I forget that you’re growing up.”
When he lowered his eyes back to his GameBoy and didn’t respond, she remembered Zooey’s suggestion and plunged in. “There’s a Big Brother program at the community center, and I’m going to look into getting you an older buddy who can do things with you.”
“I want Dad to do things with me,” he grumbled.
“I know you do. But I can’t control what your dad does and neither can you. Instead of just being unhappy because he doesn’t come around, we have to do something about it.”
“I’m not going to hang out with some stranger!” Anthony exclaimed and rolled over on his side, turning his back to her. Angela sighed. Like everything else, this wasn’t going to be easy. She could bake a great apple pie, but her life was falling apart and she had to do something about it.
Felice’s Nieces, Rosewood’s upscale ’tween and teen shop, was always loud, colorful and usually busy. Angela’s full-time job as an office manager for a pediatric dentist was methodical and paperwork oriented. She actually enjoyed working here two nights a week, sometimes on Saturdays, and interacting with the kids. Besides that, she received a discount on her daughter’s clothes.
As she separated ringspun denim jeans from sand-blasted ones, she was aware of the plasma screen TV flickering with the latest DVD for the ’tween set. Surround sound blared from every direction.
Finished with the jeans, Angela moved toward a table laden with brightly colored sweaters. The kids picked at them and tossed them back down, and they constantly needed to be straightened. As she folded a lime one that Olivia might like for Christmas, the buzzer on the glass door sounded and she looked up.
Her heart beat faster as she examined the man who had just walked in. Tall, blond and broad-shouldered, he looked like every cheerleader’s dream. Square-jawed, his face too rugged to be called handsome, he looked totally out of place amidst giggling girls, tall displays of jewelry and carousel racks filled with the latest styles. She couldn’t quite gauge how old he was. Her age, maybe?
Reluctantly she returned her attention to the sweaters on the table, taking another peek at him as he went to the cashier’s desk and spoke to the manager. Those shoulders filled out the hunter-green sweater to perfection. She could only imagine the muscles there. His gray stone-washed jeans fit his backside even better. The cross trainers he wore were expensive, and she wondered if he’d come in to buy somebody a Christmas present.
Stop it, she scolded herself. As if you’d consider getting involved with anyone right now, let alone a hunk who’d be scared to death of three kids and a mortgage payment the size of the Eastern Seaboard.
Angela was stacking sweaters into a neat pile when a deep male voice made her jump.
“Are you Angela Schumacher?”
Spinning around, clutching a sweater to her chest, she looked up into the fascinating hazel eyes of the blond man who’d walked in a few minutes before.
Flustered, she had trouble finding her voice. Finally she managed to say, “I’m Angela.”
He extended his hand. “I’m David Moore. I’ve been selected to be Anthony’s Big Brother.”
“I see,” she replied inanely, not knowing what else to say. His hand was still extended and she slipped hers into it, immediately aware of the heat shooting up her arm, the increased rate of her pulse, the giddy feeling she hadn’t experienced since she was a teenager.
Composing herself, she pulled her hand away. “The community center said you’d give me a call before you stopped by the house.”
